


And she is never coming home

by Now_look_here



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Mentioned Not-Them Sasha James, Past Sasha James/Tim Stoker, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28630488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Now_look_here/pseuds/Now_look_here
Summary: What did she look like? The question that has never left his mind since she left his life. He knows her eyes were brown, or blue... No, green. Sasha had green eyes. Why can't he remember the colour of the eyes he stared into almost ever day.
Relationships: Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	And she is never coming home

**Author's Note:**

> I miss sasha James every day
> 
> Title from a mcr song!

Tim ponders his own face in his half empty cup of tea and whiskey. What did she look like? The question that has never left his mind since she left his life. He knows her eyes were brown, or blue... No, green. Sasha had green eyes. Why can't he remember the colour of the eyes he stared into almost ever day. Tim's own eyes catch the yellow scrunchie, around his wrist, Sasha would always complaint about her hair falling into her work, she'd tie half of it back with a soft mutter under her breath of 'bloody hair' Tim used to think it was adorable but then again he thought everything she did was adorable. Or he thought she did. He can't remember if the real Sasha, his Sasha had this silly hair tie or not. Why can't he remember.

Tim threw his head back on his office chair, barring his throat to the sky, threatening it to make his throat shine crimson. If it could take Sasha and turn her anew, then it sure as fuck can take him to. Nothing happened, of course. Tim wasn't expecting anything to anyway. God, Sasha would be worried sick if she heard him, Tim thinks idly. She knew how the fog could take root in him and pull everything out. She knew a great deal about Tim stoker. She knew how he liked his coffee as dark as a shadow but his tea sweeter then honey. She knew how to read his eyes, she knew about Danny. Why doesn't he know anything about her?, He should know stuff about her, like how she liked her tea, how she dressed, he should know her family. He should know her face. Anger caked his tongue like ash, slowly falling down his throat. He bits back a sob, she's gone, she, who was all light and warm, is gone. She's never coming back and it's all his fault. Tim grabs the whiskey and tops up his glass, knocking it back without a word. 

Only the never ending cacophony of 'It's my fault, all my fault', his mind is supplying to keep him company.


End file.
